


Letters from Exile, to Exile

by ExtraPenguin



Category: Honor Harrington Series - David Weber
Genre: Bad Haiku, Bad Poetry, Community: trope_bingo, Gen, Haiku, Letters, Poetry, Road Trips, Trope Bingo Round 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-08 12:13:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3208730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExtraPenguin/pseuds/ExtraPenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cathy writes herself letters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letters from Exile, to Exile

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aoife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoife/gifts).



Dear Self,

They have no excuse  
Condemning those making the  
Universe better

So: I'm holding a speech in the House of Lords telling them that they should venerate Harrington. Not condemn her. She was doing her duty.

Yours, Cathy

 

 

Dear Self,

I got expelled. Apparently the truth was too much. Or I should've sugar-coated it. I'm pissed.

Yours, Cathy

 

 

Dear Self,

I've decided my next course of action: put as much distance as feasible between me and the House's twits. Plan: to Earth via Beowulf.

Yours, Cathy

 

 

Dear Self,

Always remember to double-check the ticket. Accidentally purchasing a transit to Gregor would be embarrassing. Learn from my mistakes.

I'm still going towards Old Earth. However, my trip will be much slower. I'm not going to admit defeat and go through the wormhole again. I refuse to return to Manticore as long as the same idiots hold power.

Current itinerary: Gregor → Durandel → Asgard → ??

Yours, Cathy

 

 

Dear Self,

This very cheap passanger liner is rather bad value for money. Were this place stationary and planetbound, it would be called a hovel.

Three weeks to Durandel.

Yours, Cathy

 

 

Dear Self,

Stars are beautiful  
Distant, shining and boring  
I am very bored

Yours, Cathy

 

 

Dear Self,

Finally got to the Durandel wormhole junction today. Stuck due to some idiot scientist who wanted to probe whether perhaps the wormhole had another terminus, and the debris is dangerous. Fuck everyone involved.

Yours, Cathy

 

Dear Self,

Finally got through to Asgard. Decided to visit the planet. It was not a very wise decision: the capital _stinks_. (It's also called Essence, since the inhabitants are crazy or something. Landing would've done nicely, but no. They just had to call their first city “Essence”.)

Got a ticket to Tarther System. It's a tourist-y place five weeks out.

Yours, Cathy

 

 

Dear Self,

Tarther is a nice place to vacation. The capital city (this time it's called, rather logically, First City) is in the tropics, and the planet has an abundance of volcanic islands with long, dark beaches. The volcanic sand is black, you see.

Lounging on the beach sure beats sitting in a space-ship all cooped up, but if I'm going to exile myself, I'm going to exile myself _properly_. No vacation resort planets. I'm off to Earth. I have a ticket to Stardakatsi.

Yours, Cathy

 

 

Dear Self,

Travel is overrated. I got thrown into the ship's brig for accusing a fellow passenger of owning a genetic slave. (His servant  _was_ a genetic slave, and did not look at all willing to serve his master.) Unfortunately, this ship is Solly, and the slave-owner was richer than me. Oh well.

Yours, Cathy

 

 

Dear Self,

Solaris Lines has permanently banned me from travelling on their ships. I don't want to travel with them, either. At least I didn't get any criminal charges.

Stardakatsi is boring and rather dry. The capital is next to a desert. The sand is annoying.

Yours, Cathy

 

 

Dear Self,

Finally I got  
With no stops, no diversions  
A ticket to Sol

Yours, Cathy

 

 

Dear Self,

There is no way for Old Earth to  _not_ be overrated after the advertising talk we got before going through the Zanner wormhole.  There is no way Earth is a paradise of milk and honey. Advertisers.

Yours, Cathy

 

 

Dear Self,

Congratulations on arriving on Old Earth.

How the fuck are you going to pay the rent?

Yours, Cathy


End file.
